An Ode to Diversity

I nestle my head in her fur, breathing in the scent of the outdoors.  In one whiff I smell the air and the earth. I smell wood smoke and soil. I can smell that the neighbors are burning their wood stove, and I infer that the rains must have fallen 2 days ago or more.

Kora, my dog, looks at me somewhat indifferently as I bury my head in her stomach. She tolerates my strange expression of affection.  I suppose she thinks this is her payment for getting on the bed.  After I smell her fur, she sighs.  Now… we are even.

I settle into my spot on the bed watching the sun set behind the naked winter trees and I smile.  Now I have the full experience of being outside without actually being out in the 19 degree cold.  From my dog’s fur I have the “smell-scape” of my land, and I imagine the smell of my surroundings as I watch the sun set in this typical Piedmont winterscape sky.  No clouds, only pale blue fading to purple and orange behind a forest of skeleton trees. 

As I watch blue give way to twilight I think about how grateful I am for the “others.” This whole experience I just described was a play consisting of non-human actors, described from one human’s lens.  Although I thrive on the affection of other people in my life, I also require life of the other kind.  Life of my dogs, life of my garden, life of my land, life of all the beings big and small that populate this one planet.  I am made whole by being amongst the trees, the soil, and the plants.  I am made whole by an earth that makes me feel different and special. 

We are but one species on this planet of many.  And yet we naturally gravitate toward a world that looks like us.  We walk the streets only to see reflections of ourselves differentiated by the grace of genetics and the gift of varied lighting. But what of the green things, I ponder as I look out my window…  What of the small flying things, the furry things?  What would the world be like without them?  Would we feel as different, as unique, as special, as human?

And so this night I pray for a world in which we as humans honor that feeling of “being different” by protecting the “others.”  I yearn for a world that appreciates (maybe even comes to love) nature and its funky smell of wet soil and smoke on dog fur.  I yearn for a world that acknowledges that our differences, and our very identity, is a product of comparison.  For although we are a mighty species, our might dies in the absence of brethren. 

The sun has now set, and the darkness of the winter moonless night reminds me of why I appreciate the twilight.  It is here, I think to myself, that I remember where I am going and where I have been.  It is here I find a deeper appreciation for the blue skies of day and the starry skies of night. Without the contrast I am a 2-dimensional existence.  Without these trees, this land, and all the living biota, I am less of who I could be. And so I say into this starry night, “May all of us as humans feel truly cherished and special.  May we always protect those who are not like us, human or not… And lastly may we always, always remember our worth as a product of all lives, big and small.”